Michael Winner at the Red Fort, Soho

I know of no kinder or more generous person than John Cleese. We met in Barbados in 1984. For our first dinner he shaved off most of his black moustache, leaving a bit in the middle so he looked like Hitler. He's since assailed me with disgraceful racist jibes, often in public or in after-dinner speeches. I find them extremely amusing, although some observers have been shocked.

My favourite John remark came as we walked along the sands in Barbados, our feet in the sparkling sea, flowering bushes full of colour, birds tweeting, clear blue sky. John said, "You know, Michael, there must be more to life than this."

He's just completed a lengthy and bitter divorce. His ex-wife Alyce Faye Eichelberger told me on a previous spat, when she'd hired solicitor Fiona Shackleton, "John doesn't know what's going to hit him. I'll take him for every penny." She kept